IN WHICH MRS. VERNON IS MISSING.

Robert reached home about one o'clock, which was the usual hour that Mrs. Vernon and himself had lunch. He found the lady had not yet returned.

"I am in no hurry, Martha," he said. "I will go into the office and write some letters."

The letters took nearly an hour to finish, and by that time our hero felt decidedly hungry. Mrs. Vernon had told him never to wait over half an hour for a meal, so he now ordered lunch for himself alone.

"That meeting probably took longer than expected," he thought. "Perhaps she is having a whole lot of trouble with the other stockholders. I wish I could help her."

Slowly the afternoon wore away, and still Mrs. Vernon did not put in an appearance. Robert went out for another walk, and did not come back until six o'clock, the regular dinner hour.

"Not back yet, Martha?" was his first question, on returning.

"No, Mr. Frost."

"It is queer."

"Shall I have dinner served?"

"No, I will wait half an hour."

"It's too bad. The roast will be overdone, I am afraid."

"Well, it probably cannot be helped."

Robert drifted into the library, and selecting a volume of Cooper's works, sat down in an easy chair to read. But he could not fasten his attention on the story, and soon cast the volume aside.

"Is it possible that anything has happened to Mrs. Vernon?" was the question which he asked himself over and over again.

He thought of Frederic Vernon and Dr. Remington, and of what Dick Marden had said.

"Would Frederic Vernon dare to do anything?" he asked himself.

The evening passed slowly and painfully. As hour after hour went by Robert began to pace the floor nervously. He felt "in his bones," as the saying is, that something was wrong, but he could not exactly imagine what.

When the clock struck eleven he could stand the suspense no longer. He summoned Martha.

"I am going out to look for Mrs. Vernon," he said. "If she comes in in the meantime tell her not to worry about me."

"Very well," answered the maid.

Robert had decided to call first at the Masonic Temple, a large business building situated in the heart of Chicago. It was in the Temple that the offices were located which Mrs. Vernon had started to visit early that morning.

He rode the greater part of the distance and reached the office building shortly before midnight. The ground floor was still open, but the great majority of the offices were dark.

Approaching one of the hallmen he asked about the meeting of the manufacturing company.

"I don't know anything about that," was the answer. "But Joe Dolan does. I'll call him."

"The meeting broke up about noon," said Joe Dolan, when summoned.

"Do you remember Mrs. Vernon?"

"I don't know the lady by name. How was she dressed?"

As well as he was able, Robert described the lady's appearance.

"Oh, yes, I know her now," cried Joe Dolan. "There were only two ladies, you see, and the other was short and stout."

"Well, what became of Mrs. Vernon?"

"She went out ahead of the others."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what direction she took?"

"I do not."

"Are you sure she did not come back?"

"I didn't see anything of her, and I've been around ever since."

"Are the offices locked up?"

"Yes, and have been ever since five o'clock. No one but Mr. Smith has been in them since three o'clock."

"Then she must certainly have gone somewhere else."

"Do you calculate there is anything wrong?" said the janitor, with interest.

"I don't know what to think. She said she would return home from here, and she hadn't got back up to eleven o'clock."

"That looks bad."

"Of course something else may have come up that is keeping her away."

"That is so."

Thanking the janitor for his information, Robert left the Masonic Temple and walked up the street. He scarcely knew what to do next.

He would have called upon Mr. Farley for advice, but knew that the lawyer's offices were closed, and he had not the man's home address.

Hoping that Mrs. Vernon had returned to the mansion on Prairie Avenue, he returned. It was now nearly one o'clock, and it must be confessed that Robert was sleepy.

Martha had gone to bed, but William the butler sat dozing in a hall chair.

"No, she isn't home yet," said the butler, in reply to our hero's question. "I never knew her to stay out so late before, excepting when she went to a ball or something like that."

"There is something wrong, that is certain," said Robert. "I have half a mind to call on the police for aid."

"Better wait, Mr. Frost. It may be all right, and if the police were called in the newspapers might make a big sensation of it. And you know how much Mrs. Vernon dislikes scandals." The butler did not mention Frederic Vernon's doings, but he had them in mind, and Robert understood.

Our hero slept but little that night, and was up and dressed long before the usual breakfast hour. He passed to Mrs. Vernon's apartments, to find them still empty.

"I will go down to Mr. Farley's and have a talk with him," he told himself, and left the house in time to reach the lawyer's offices at nine o'clock--for he knew Mr. Farley would not be there earlier.

"This is certainly strange, Frost," said the lawyer, with a grave look on his face.

"I don't like it at all."

"Nor I, especially as I saw that nephew of hers in town yesterday morning."

"What, Frederic Vernon?"

"Yes."

"Then he is to blame for his aunt's disappearance," said Robert bitterly.

"What makes you think that?"

"I may as well tell you the truth, Mr. Farley, although I trust you will let the thing go no further. I believe you do not know exactly what reasons Mrs. Vernon had for going to England so suddenly."

"I know she had some trouble with her nephew."

"Frederic Vernon was plotting to put her into an insane asylum."

"You don't mean it, Frost!" gasped the lawyer.

"I do mean it. He had his plans all arranged, when I got wind of it, told Mrs. Vernon, and she left, without letting her nephew know anything about it."

"In that case, Frederic Vernon must be accountable for her present disappearance."

"I am half of a mind that that is so. The thing of it is, to catch the young man and prove it."

"That is so."

"If we catch him he may deny everything, unless he is certain he can make out a case of insanity against her."

"But she is no more insane than you or I!" cried Mr. Farley.

"I agree with you. But Frederic Vernon had a tool, a certain Dr. Remington, who was willing to swear that Mrs. Vernon was of unsound mind."

"It is a dastardly plot, and the man who invented it ought to be in prison."

"Mrs. Vernon hated publicity or anything in the nature of a family scandal. That is why she suffered so much in silence."

"We ought to find this Frederic Vernon at once."

"That is so."

"If you agree with me, we will put a private detective on his track. I know a reliable man, who knows when to talk and when to keep his mouth shut."

"Then that is the man to get. It would be foolish to allow Mrs. Vernon's enemies more time than necessary. They may be carrying her off to a great distance."

Mr. Farley was quick to act, and soon he and Robert were on the way to the place where Detective Brossom could be found.

As much as was necessary was told to the detective, and he was given a description of Frederic Vernon and also a list of the resorts which the spendthrift had been in the habit of frequenting.

"If he's in Chicago I'll run him down all right enough," said Brossom. "If I am not mistaken I've met him at one of the clubs, when I was running down Carew the bank wrecker."

"Of course we may be mistaken, and Mrs. Vernon may return home to-day," said Robert. "If she does, I will send word to this place immediately."